


i knew i loved you

by kalypsobean



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M, Torture, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 21:32:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18302324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean





	i knew i loved you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Narya (Narya_Flame)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narya_Flame/gifts).



He comes in the night, shrouded and so unnoticed amid the embers and dirt. The war allows him to move freely, to slip in and out of the forge with no mind for watchers. His burden is still, enspelled to silence; he is gone before the Elves awaken, passing out of light where his welcome is outstayed and his desires sated.

 

"Tell me where they are," he says, the smith's roughened skin parting gracelessly beneath his blade. It does not catch, for the smith prized his dexterity, and as such, had something that was easily taken away. The rings glitter at the edge of his awareness, like light reflected through cloud, pure and beautiful and as brilliant as the stars themselves.

The smith says nothing, and so he bleeds. They are the hands that he himself taught to weave the lightest of settings from the hardest rocks. What Annatar gave is what Sauron takes away; ephemeral and deep are his ties, the whispered words between them meaning little save for the pleasure of repeating them as he traces each nerve from finger to wrist, drawing out the very thing his Celebrimbor had held closest of all and taking it away such that even his name was void. 

"Tell me," he says, and removes the spell; the words are lost in screams and ragged breaths as the smith collapses to the ground.

There is pleasure in how the smith leans on him, unwilling to wholly submit and yet unable to hold himself aright, and he cannot help but stroke his supplicant's hair, the caress a last bastion of gentleness.

"Tell me, and I'll heal you."

"No," Celebrimbor says.

He reaches for an arrow, the head flaked and enchanted by Eregion's own.

"Suit yourself." He stabs, twists, and waits for the screaming.


End file.
